


The Warmth Despite the Chill

by sambethe



Category: Emerald City (TV 2016)
Genre: Episode 1x04, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: Missing scene between the kiss at the end of episode 1x04 and the arrival of Eamonn & Ojo.





	

He can hear the notes of the music playing. They’re crisp and clear, despite the sullenness of their tone. Between them and the wisps of snow falling and getting caught in the ends of Dorothy’s hair, he can almost let himself imagine that it’s just them in these woods, with the girl curled up with Toto across the fire. 

Lucas watches her watch him listen. He tries to hold onto the words, but they fade and slip from his mind as the sound of the strings rise and her hand cups his elbow. Her fingers scratch at the fabric of his jacket as she whispers, “That man, he didn’t know you.”

He tries to stay focused on her eyes, on what it is she’s saying between those words, but his attention flickers to her mouth and the way her tongue rests behind her lower lip before she bites down. He means to nod his head, but instead inches closer.

“He knew who I _was_.” 

The hand she has at his elbow travels up his arm and rests on his bicep. It takes all he has not to pull her towards him and cover her mouth with his before he can finish his thought.

“The man I am today?” he continues, twisting his fingers in the ends of her hair as she creeps forward. Her forehead is nearly pressed to his and Lucas can feel the puff of her breath against his lips. “He’s who I want to be.” 

It only takes a beat from the time the last word leaves his mouth to when her lips are pressed to his. He’s not sure which of them covers that last bit of space, but he doesn’t think he cares when all he can feel is what he’s wanted since their journey from Nimbo started. She’s soft, softer than he’s imagined, and he wants to savor it. So he keeps the pressure light, almost fleeting, until her hand reaches for his jaw. Her fingers hover just out of reach, but he can feel the heat of them. It matches the heat he can feel where her knee is pressed to his. 

A part of him feels that he shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t take what Dorothy’s offering him. Not when there is so much unknown about him, a larger part knows he’s never been more sure of something – someone, despite knowing nothing of what came before he knew her. 

So when her fingers graze his face, the pads soft against the scratch his beard, he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moves a hand to her waist, curling his fingers and drawing closer to her as she opens her mouth to him. Lucas doesn’t hesitate, takes her invitation to sweep his tongue against hers. She’s wet and warm, a stark contrast to the weather that swirls around them, and a moan rises at the back of his throat. He doesn’t break from her, instead draws his free hand to her head, his fingers threading in her hair, holding Dorothy to him, allowing her to swallow his moan as their tongues continue to slide and curl with one another.

When they finally do break, she remains with him, her lips hovering just out of reach as they breathe in each other’s breaths. She nudges the tip of her nose along his and he moves to follow, but he stops when he feels her smile press against the corner of his mouth. She follows it with a brush of her lips to his cheek, and then continues with a wet slide to his jaw. 

He tightens his grip at her hip, wanting to haul her into his lap, wanting to slip his hand beneath her jacket to find the skin he knows hides from his view. He wants to let Dorothy’s mouth wander, beneath his jaw, to his neck, to his ear. But he also knows a frightened girl sleeps just feet from them and this can only go so far.

She must feel his hesitation because she nips at the skin of his neck and gives a quiet laugh before she pulls back, her eyes searching his. 

He draws his fingers from her hair, cupping her cheek and bringing her back to him. “We should rest soon,” he says, but belies his words with another kiss to her lips. She hums against him but doesn’t move to stop the slow pecks they pass between themselves. If anything, she slows them, allows them to linger, drawing them out until her tongue is once again entwined with his. And he lets her pull him back in, losing himself in the feel of her being so close. It’s only her fingers tracing at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt that makes him once again mindful of where they are. 

He reaches up and wraps her hand with his, pulling her fingers to his mouth so he can kiss the tip of each finger before leaving a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist. He watches her as he does, her eyes are still closed as she sways – whether because of him or the music that still plays in their ears, he is unsure – but she smiles when he nips at the delicate skin.

“I thought you wanted to rest.”

He smiles back when her eyes flutter open and he presses another kiss into her skin, this time at her palm, before he threads their fingers together.

“I do,” he says, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle as she watches him. “But I find your lips distracting.”

“Just my lips?” she teases, dropping her free hand to his knee and sliding it up his thigh.

He gives a muffled growl and leans in to kiss her once again. 

Dorothy pulls back after a few moments, her tongue licking along her lower lip. “Funny how you remember how to do this.”

He runs his nose along her cheek. “Would seem a pity to forget.”

She hums and returns her hand to his jaw, drawing his mouth back to hers. He follows her lead, losing himself in the warm, wet slide of tongue once more. He’s not sure how long they continue, but he has a moment to wonder at how long it might have been since he’s been kissed like this – unhurried caresses that build and wind him up but with no pressure to push further. When Dorothy pulls back again, he looks at her and smiles at the sight of her swollen lips and tangled hair. The device on which she’d played the music lies forgotten on her bag, the ear pieces wired to fallen forgotten on the ground around it. 

“Sleep?” she asks and he nods, shuffling to lie down on the ground in front of the log on which they’ve been sitting. Dorothy shimmies down next to him, laying her head on his chest. Lucas can feel her shudder against him after a moment, despite the fire still burning low at their feet. He shifts to sit a moment, pulling off his jacket. Once he’s settled back down and she’s again laid her head on him, he drops the coat over her and tucks her closer to his side.

“Better?”

She nods and settles an arm across his chest, resting her hand above his breastbone. He brings his own up and traces at her fingers. He glances down when she presses a kiss to him and finds her tilting her chin up to reach his mouth again. He leans down and draws her to him, sliding his tongue into her mouth without preamble this time. She gives a quiet moan and he can feel the vibration of it against his chest. He grips her shoulder and deepens the kiss as she hitches her leg over his hip. 

He reaches down to grab hold of her knee, his fingers splaying to her thigh, and has a fleeting thought to tug her so she lies on top of him more fully. His cock stirs just beneath where her thigh rests and he can feel her heat radiating against him. He wants to know the feel of her, even with the layers of clothes between them, but he knows that this is not the place.

So he pulls away and tips his head back, bringing his hand up to comb through his hair. Dorothy slips her hand beneath the leather of his vest. He groans as she gropes to find the ends of his shirt beneath it.

“Dorothy,” he sighs, wanting to once again feel her hands on his chest without a barrier between them. Wants it to be for a purpose other than to nurse him back to health. “Not here,” he says, reaching for her hand again. 

“I know,” comes her quiet reply followed by a kiss to his chest before she settles back down at his side. She tangles their fingers together and Lucas can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she steadies herself. He wishes they were anywhere but this forest. Wishes he could keep her safe. Wishes he could bring her to her home.

Wishes he could follow.

And wonders if this next time she goes away, if she’ll be gone from him for good.


End file.
